VIII.
Now peeping from the copse so green,
The Fox’s cunning head is seen,
His ready ears turned back:
His open mouth his terror shows;
For time put off, full well he knows,
Will bring the eager pack.
So down towards the Tweed he steels,
With outstretched brush, and nimble heels;
When, hark! a horseman from below
Has given the welcome Tallyho!
Amazement filled the listening crew;
The note was strange, the voice was new:
Wondered they much who it could be
That shouted with such melody;
For such a voice, or such a sound,
Ne’er till this moment cheered a hound.